


Is that... Excitement?

by NyGi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester is annoyed, Gen, Harry Has Issues, Harry is a Little Shit, Master of Death Harry Potter, Overpowered Harry Potter, Sam Winchester is So Done, Snarky Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:21:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27683471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NyGi/pseuds/NyGi
Summary: Harry Potter is old. Veeeery old. He also sometimes gets summoned by strangers wanting him to have a word with Death on their behalf. His routine gets a little shaken, though, when two brothers in lots of flannel go and just KILL Death.
Comments: 24
Kudos: 557





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I couln't sleep, so I wrote a little piece of harmless fun. Hope someone likes it. If not, at least I giggled while writing it

**Is that… Excitement?**

When Harry James Potter had been 17, he'd become the so called Master of Death. Which didn't really mean anything. Really. It just meant he accepted the reality of death. That it was natural. Nothing to be scared of. At least he thought so for about the next 100 years of his life. Then his wife died, his friends died… his children started dying. His grandchildren. Great-grandchildren… by the time his great-great-grandchildren started to die, his descendents had grown so numerous that he couldn’t remember all their names anymore. He mostly stayed in his little cottage in the middle of the woods, lived off the land and enjoyed reading, long walks… from time to time one of his descendents would come by. With food, stories and questions. Gramps, they all called him. Sometimes they told their friends about him and those friends told their friends and so on. At some point everyone that came by called him Gramps, even if they weren't related to him and Harry didn't mind. He enjoyed their visits and the new books they brought him. New things to learn. New things to try. After centuries and centuries the years and people started to blur. They forgot his real name, his life sinking from history to myth. And Harry remained in his forest, helping out those seeking knowledge and guidance. 

Until one day he was outside gardening and reappeared standing in the middle of a burning fire, two women staring at him with fear and hope. 

They spoke to him and he just… didn’t understand one word of what they were saying. None. With lots of pointing, gesturing and doodling he managed to figure out that he was in England, still. In 1193. And the two witches had summoned him to help fight off their mother's death. 

He couldn’t and wouldn’t do that, he explained. Death was natural after all. 

But he was the Master of Death, no? That was why they had summoned him. Why they had spent years looking for this old, druidic ritual.

Yes, he told them, he was. That was besides the point.

For some reason they thought he OWED them for summoning him and given that he had been taken from his home, he didn’t agree. So he left them standing in their small home, turned to the streets of their village and just started walking. He learned the variety of Old English they were speaking. Then he learned what kind of French the upper class was speaking. He traveled all through the Isles… Europe… and finally the world. Learning everything he could. Meeting new people. He no longer felt like a relic of times long gone. He remembered now. He was Harry Potter and he was there. Alive. He never stayed long in one place, ten years the most. Then he moved on. He made friends, had lovers… but never ever more children. Children, he thought. Losing them had almost broken him. Never again.

Things around him started to shift and change and what little Harry remembered from history didn't come to pass. Was it because he was here? Did his existence change things?

Should he return to his life of seclusion or risk erasing his own existence?

He had just waded into the Mediteranean Sea, his trousers pulled up to his knees on a sunny day in 1716, when he was suddenly pulled away again. This time, he stood in a cave in 2256 in a world, where Europeans never settled in North America. He kept on. Moved on. Lived on. Through centuries, universes and cultures and all sorts of magic. He studied them all. Learned everything. He had all the time in the world, after all. And where he went, people would ask him to ward off Death. And he would decline and move on. Until one day, out of nowhere, his heart seemed to stop. Pain. Unbelievable pain shot through him. This is it, he thought. Now it is finally my time. Finally I can rest. See my wife. My children. My friends. Maybe someone else had found the Deathly Hallows left behind in his world. 

Instead he felt himself dragged away again. And reappeared in what looked like a bar. Wood everywhere. And two tall men in jeans and flannel staring at him in shock.

"Who the fuck are you?", the guy standing in front of him said.

The other one was kneeling on the floor, looking up at him in horror.

Clothes. Language. Late 20th, early 21th century, Harry guessed. His chest felt like it was going to cave in on itself. 

Death was gone. The knowledge hit him like a tonne of bricks. Death was GONE.

"Who am I? Who are you and what have you done to Death?!",Harry snapped at them.

"I asked first!", the standing one growled and pulled the other one to his feet.

"I don't care. You don't want to play games with me, kid. What have you done to Death.Talk or I'll peel off your skin piece by piece."

His voice turned louder, vibrating the house around them. He no longer needed to say his spells out loud, magic simmering through his veins. Suddenly he felt it, a bolt of pure power racing towards them. Harry threw up a shield around him, as the man in front of him was hit by magic. Something broke. Harry's head started ringing and a power, so much stronger and darker than ANYTHING Harry had ever felt, broke from the man and shot up into the sky.

"It's gone.", the taller man said, staring at the other one's forearm, "The Mark is gone."

"Yes, but…"

"Excuse me? Hi! In case you forgot: I am still standing here with a lot of questions and exactly zero patience.", Harry interrupted them. Death was gone and all around them, he could feel a shift in energies. Magic. Power. Rippling through where they were and changing things on a cosmic level.

"Yes, right…", Tall started, "My name is Sam, this is my brother Dean. We… ah…"

"I killed Death.", Dean informed him, throwing his brother a strange glance.

"You killed Death. Death. What for? Shits and giggles?"

The brothers just stared at him and Harry wondered, if he had gotten the saying wrong. Maybe he was off by a century? Maybe this universe didn't have that saying?

"He said either I killed my brother or he would.", Dean told him, right when a loud rumble was heard outside, "Maybe we should check that out before you filet us?"

That was an excellent idea, because Harry's headache was growing and the air was so thick with magic, he could hardly breathe.

Instead of walking to the door, Harry just vanished the whole house around them. 

"What the…", Dean started, but Harry ignored him. All around them, bolts of energy were starting to hit the ground. Starting little fires. Then the Earth broke open all around them, releasing columns of dark smoke into the world.

"What did Death call this? The Darkness?", Sam asked, alarmed.

"Yes."

Not far from them a cloud was forming.

"Move!", Harry told them at the same time as the brothers headed for a black car to their right. 

As Harry just slit into the backseat behind the two and Dean started their car, a mad laugh escaped from Harry. 

After millenia of ordinary, predictable things, this… this was NEW.

The car wouldn't start, the Darkness came closer and Harry weighed his options. These guys had killed Death. They had answers. He needed them, at least for now. He threw up a shield around the car and felt that cosmic energy crush into it with maddening strength. One spell wouldn’t do it, he realized in shock. He kept casting more and more shielding spells, replacing those that kept breaking around them. SOMETHING really wanted to grab Dean out of the car.

"Looks like I am not the only thing you pissed off today.", Harry groaned and both brothers turned to him as if they were only noticing him now.

"The hell you doing in my car?"

"Saving your murderous ass."

Then, suddenly it was gone. Vanished, like nothing had happened and sunlight streamed through the car's windows.

Harry took a deep breath. He had DONE it. Whatever the hell that thing had been, it had not gotten anywhere near them.

"So… the Darkness? Great descriptive naming there. How'd you piss it off? Or was it just, you know… a friend of Death?"

"No, those are two separate problems.", Sam groaned, rubbing his forehead. 

"Yes. Great. We released a monster that has been locked away till the beginning of time by God himself into the world. Now we gotta put it back.", Dean growled, finally starting the car, "And then there is you, of course. No offense, I am sure you are pissed and powerful, but you are just not that scary right now."

"That's just because you are fooled by my friendly smile.", Harry said, threateningly showing his teeth.

"Okay. You are pissed about Death. He wanted my brother dead. That got him dead. End of story.", Dean declared, turning onto a road.

"Death is a fact of life. If Sam's time had come…"

"It hadn’t, though.", Sam interrupted him, "Death wanted me dead, so I wouldn't interfere with his plans for Dean."

"Plans?", Harry asked, his eyes shining with excitement, "Death doesn't get involved. Or he isn't supposed to."

"He got involved here, though… because of the Darkness.", Sam told him quietly.

"Yes. I have never felt anything like it.", Harry mused. What was this he was feeling? He hadn’t felt it in so long… excitement. And fear. That thing had been powerful. Extremely powerful. And it felt… wrong. It didn't belong here. Not in this world. Not in any world. And Death was gone. He felt almost giddy. New things, DANGEROUS things. That hadn't happened to him in ages. And deep down, he was still very much a Gryffindor, looking for adventure. And Death had broken the rules and gotten involved in the lives of these brothers. That was something he needed to know more about. Never had he interfered with Death, but then again, Death had always done his job before.

"Okay, I'll help."

"You what? Dude, we don't even know who you are. Or what, for that matter."

"Dean.", Sam hissed, "Please don't antagonize possible allies."

"My name is Harry and I am human.", Harry shrugged.

"And what else? Because you just vanished a house."

"I'm a wizard."

"You what? Like a witch? Sold souls, bodily fluids everywhere?"

"No. What? Is that how magic works in this world?"

"Yes.", Sam told him wearily, "Mostly witches sell their souls to demons, to get power."

"Mh, yes, I have seen worlds like that before. But I am a born wizard."

"Worlds? You travel worlds?", Sam asked, his eyes wide, while his brother's gaze stayed glued to the road.

"Not by choice. I go where I am summoned. But most don't know how to summone me, so I often spend centuries in one world. Once I stayed so long, the Earth grew too hot for any life to exist before I was called away."

"What did you do then?", Sam's eyes grew wider and wider.

"I took one of the last ships off the planet.", Harry shrugged. He hadn’t liked to leave Earth, so the other times space travel was possible, he had stayed firmly put.

"Why… why do people summon you? I mean… do people just randomly summoned a wizard and you are the only one?"

"No, there are countless wizards in infinite worlds and all across time. But I am the only Master of Death. Or I was. What am I Master of now, you think?"

Dean violently hid the breaks and turned around.

"Master of Death?"

"Yes."

"Master of Death?!"

"Yes.", Harry repeated, rolling his eyes.

"Where the hell have you been all this time?!"

"Around. Weren't you listening?"

"So you didn't care when Death was locked up… freed… the Apocalypse… nothing?"

"Which apocalypse?"

"THE bloody apocalypse!"

"Dean. He's a transdimensional being."

"He what now?"

"Your brother is right. What happens here is big for you, nothing to me. That was, until you freed this Darkness thing. It's like me. And it doesn't belong here."

Dean started the car again, grumbling a little.

"So…", Sam tried again, "People summoned you to… what… tell Death to leave them alone and you do?"

"Of course I don't. Death is natural. It happens to everyone. Some day."

"So some poor bastard summons you, asks for help and you just say no and walk away?", Dean tensed.

"If you want to phrase it like that, sure."

"Dick move."

"These people rip me away from my world, my home, my life. They better be grateful I don't kill them before I walk off.", Harry growled.

"Touché."

They drove in silence for a while. Possibly hours. Harry wasn't good with time, really. When suddenly something shifted in his perception, ringing alarm bells in his head.

"There are people ahead. Two. One is… wrong somehow."

"How do you…", Dean started the moment they rounded a corner and saw cars and what looked like a road crew full of people dead on the ground.

"Oh, that doesn't look good.", Dean sighed.

"I felt their energy.", Harry frowned, as they stopped and the brothers gripped their guns, "Look out for the corrupted one. "

They left the car, when a man in the reflector jacked walked towards them. There were black veins on his neck and his eyes were… like a void. He oozed sickness. 

"Hey, easy, buddy. Just stay cool till we figure out what's going on here, okay?", Dean tried carefully.

The guy just kept walking.

"Dean….", Harry tried, frowning, "don't shoot, please. I won't let him hurt anybody."

"Well great, because…"

And then the sound of a gunshot broke through the air, the infected man falling. Dead. Harry could feel his soul leaving before his body hit the ground.

"Sgu!", he swore and looked at the young woman with a shotgun now opposite them.

"Weapons on the ground. Slow.", she told them.

"Easy, Officer.", Sam tried, "We…"

But Harry had enough. He had been summoned. Death was… dead. The Darkness was extremely powerful and this whole ordeal was giving him a headache.

One quick spell and the gun just flew across the pavement.

"What the…", the woman shouted, panic in her voice. 

"Harry!", Sam sounded almost scandalized.

And Harry didn’t care one bit. The young woman was bleeding, he realized. She took a panicked step back and he just waved his hand.

"What? Show me your wound. I can heal it "

"You… but… no, what?"

"Harry.", Sam tried again.

Harry frowned, "The way you reacted back there, I thought this stuff was common knowledge in this universe."

"Nope.", Dean offered helpfully.

"Oh. Oops. I am very sorry, young lady. My name is Harry. I am a wizard and I can help you."

"A wizard.", the police officer repeated, "Like Harry Potter?"

"Exactly like that.", Harry smiled. He wasn’t surprised by her knowing his name. This wasn't the first world where the story of his defeat of Voldemort had somehow become known through books. He had sometimes wondered if maybe it had been Death's doing. Or maybe there were others like him, travelling from universe to universe and telling stories. He had certainly done that. Set down with an audience and told a story he had heard or experienced from worlds far away.

The woman let him come closer and he moved her shirt away, carefully put his right hand on her wound and felt the magic flow out of his arm and into her body, knitting back together what had been separated. Ten seconds later he was done and she was healed.

"What’s your name, dear?", Harry asked, careful to look as harmless as possible. That wasn't too hard, really. His hair and beard had turned white long ago, his face slightly wrinkled around the eyes and his mouth. He knew he looked like a man in his early sixties, his glasses giving him the look of a slightly nerdy grandpa. He always dressed as neutrally as possible, just in case. Right now he wore something resembling sweat pants and a t-shirt with leather shoes, but he could transfigure anything within seconds.

Wordlessly he cleaned her shirt and repaired it, with Sam and Dean hovering behind his back.

"Jenna.", she told him, her voice wobbling a little, "My name is Jenna."

She was staring at her uniform, her left hand caressing her unharmed skin beneath it.

"Jenna, can you tell me what happened here?", Harry asked carefully.

"They… there was a family in distress. I was sent here, but they were all dead. The road crew. They killed them all. And I killed them."

"They all have those black veins. Not human.", Sam said somewhere to Harry's left.

"Human, but corrupted.", Harry corrected," And there's more of them. The Darkness did this. This all… reeks of it."

"What do we do now?", Sam asked, "Is it contagious?"

Harry shrugged, then turned eastwards.

"What's that way, Jenna?" 

"The town. And outside it, the hospital.", he hurried to answer, now back into professional mode.

"Okay. Then that's where we are going. Boys, let's move."

"Oh, so you've been around for a couple of hours and suddenly you're calling the shots?", Dean snarked.

"Yes. I am. Glad we agree. Now get a move on. This is exciting. There is an adventure to be had."


	2. Rusty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this really was supposed to be a One-Shot, but then I forgot to set it to complete on ff.net and the guys wereso awesome with favs, follows and amazing reviews that I just didn't want to disappoint them. I know, I'm a people pleaser. And to be honest: Right now, I need a snarky, totally overpowered Harry Potter in my life. I just need a laugh. Maybe you do, too.  
> So this will be a short, I repeat: SHORT story. I know, the last time I said that it turned into a 60-Chapter-Mammouth I am still working on, but this time I mean it! Especially since I already started on an SPN/HP long fic.
> 
> Anyway: You guys rock! Seriously, you are amazing. I hope this is fun despite the soul eating baby. I tried to keep it light. Just like Harry.

**Getting Rusty?**

"Wait!", Jenna called, taking a few steps after Harry, "You can't just… leave me here!"

"Oh, hell yes, we can. You better go and call this in. We take care of the monsters. You don't want to get involved.", Harry told her sternly. He was so not in the mood for motivated civilians. His head was still throbbing, his chest hurt and the Winchesters were already enough of a hassle with their questions. Although he had to admit, they were pretty entertaining.

"Gramps over here is right, Jenna.", Dean unexpectedly agreed, "This shit is gonna get ugly and we're better equipped to handle it."

"But these are my people being infected and killed! I went to school with these guys and their sisters! I NEED to see this through."

"Need, mh?", Harry frowned. I got that feeling, "Fine. Boys, she's coming."

"Oh, for…", Dean started, but his brother interrupted him: "Just… let's just roll with it for now, okay? One problem at a time."

"He should be thankful we don't leave him behind.", Dean growled.

"Excuse me? I can actually do something about this Darkness. What are you going to do? Smolder and hope it digs that?"

"Sm… dude.", Dean threw up his arms.

"Less talking. More moving. Or I'll leave you behind.", Harry decided and held the door open for Jenna.

"And then what? You gonna fly there?", Dean taunted.

"Dean, he might actually be able to do that."

"Thank you, Sam. Yes, that's what I would do. But since YOU unleashed this thing, I'll let you tag along for now.", Harry added and sat down in the back seat next to Jenna. 

"They did what?!"

"I might shoot him.", Dean growled at his brother, as he finally started the car.

"Go ahead. I could use a laugh.", Harry chirped.

"Stop it! Both of you!", Sam almost shouted.

"Dude, you just yelled at the Master of Death.", Dean whispered smuggly.

"Dean, I swear, man, just shut it!"

They drove in silence for about two minutes before Jenna quietly asked: "Master of Death?"

"Oh, don't worry. It's more of an honorary title thing. 

Silence.

The entrance of the small hospital was pure chaos. There was a truck belonging to the road crew clearly signaling how trouble had found the people here. Sam and Dean wanted to stock up on weapons, but Harry was finally out of patience and just marched ahead, with Jenna following him like a shadow. She had obviously realized he was the guy for this kind of crazy. Inside everything was destroyed, bodies lying on the floor, hunched over desks… and the telephone ringing on a loop.

"Oh God.", Jenna groaned.

"That way.", Harry nodded, following the energy he felt ahead. Sam and Dean followed, their guns drawn.

"No shooting, please.", Harry told them sternly, as they walked past more bodies, "I need one alive."

"As long as none of those freaks come near us, sure.", Dean agreed, but his gun stayed at the ready. More Harry really couldn't expect.

And theeeeere he was. A member of the road crew, viciously banging at a closet door and behind it… 

"It's here…", Harry explained, "And somehow it has already gotten stronger. Damn it."

He waved his arm and the infected man fell to the ground. Unconscious. Harry hurried to kneel down beside him, and put a careful hand on the black streaks marking his neck and head. 

"What is it?", Sam asked, kneeling down as well.

"Nothing. It's… nothing. It feels like… I can't describe it, really. Like, well, Darkness is slowly creeping through his blood, eating his soul."

Suddenly the soft mewling of a newborn sounded out from behind the door. A baby, damn it. Harry narrowed his eyes. He hated it when kids were involved. More than everything else, ever. He could understand, accept and forgive a lot of things. He had seen too much not to. But kids. Kids were another story.

"Dude, you are starting to glow.", Dean said somewhere behind him, but Harry had trouble hearing him clearly. His ears were ringing. His vision blurred. Ice cold fury was pumping through his veins. This Darkness thing was done for. And if it took him down with it, all the better.

The air around him started to churn with energy and his three companions stepped back. He could feel it. There. Behind the door. That entity pulling out this man's soul. As long as he was alive, they were connected. And Harry was so done. This thing would not get this soul. Deeper and deeper Harry sunk his own power into the unconscious victim and then: pulled. The man's body jolted up, his head still held down by Harry and behind the door the baby started to cry in earnest.

Don't let it have taken over the baby, Harry thought. Let it only be the infected one in there.

The man started to seize, the baby cried harder and somewhere in his periphery Harry could see Dean trying to make it to the door without walking too close to Harry.

And then, just like that, it was over.

Everything fell silent, no one moved.

"Did it work?", Sam asked, his voice carefully neutral.

Harry lifted his hands. The marks were gone and he could feel it, almost see it: the man's soul was whole and safe again.

"I'll be damned.", Dean breathed out loudly, "Now let's help that poor baby."

Harry sighed and opened the door from afar.

A terrified man was standing inside the closet, a still fuzzy looking newborn in blankets cradled in his arms. Harry took another step to get a better feel for the situation, but he couldn’t disentangle their energies.

"Sir, we are here to help. We just need you to get out of there, so we can help you.", Sam started.

"Mike?", Jenna asked, "These guys are the real deal. They helped me earlier."

"Jenna? I don't understand. What's going on here?"

"Okay, Mike, please hand the baby over to Jenna. Just for a second.", Harry wearily watched the two. He needed to know which one was the soul-eating Big Bad, although he was pretty sure he already knew.

"Hell no. My daughter stays with me!"

"Harry, maybe we should take this somewhere more… private?", Sam tried carefully.

"No, we need to settle this. One of them is infected and I'd really like to change that. Now.", Harry hissed, his temper flaring up. Babies, man. Why babies?

"Okay, Mike? Did you see the guy come in? Did he go after you?"

"Yes. They… they came in together. In a truck. Road crew. I ran back in to get… to get my daughter. They…"

"Did they cut you or bleed on you?", Dean took over from his brother.

"Yes. I… I can feel it. Something is wrong."

Harry closed his eyes, took a deep breath and said: "Then please hand the baby over to someone else and let me help you. Before you go and do something stupid."

"That man that attacked us. You helped him, too?"

"Yes. And he is just unconscious. Not hurt."

Carefully Mike walked closer to Jenna and handed her the baby.

"Oh wow.", Jenna sighed, "She is so tiny."

The moment Mike had stepped back, Harry had him on the floor. Unconscious, too.

"Harry, man! The hell? This isn't helping with the trust!", Dean yelled. 

"Jenna, step back further!", Harry barked and knelt close to Mike. He was infected, yes. And the baby was… not a baby.

Rage, more rage than Harry had felt in centuries.

Not now, Potter, not now. Don't think about it now. This. This was one of the times where he HATED not to be able to return souls. This poor baby had never even had a chance, before some body snatching cosmic entity decided it needed a host. Not now. Not now.

He laid his hand on Mike's head and pulled, like he had done before. Mike wasn't nearly as far gone, so he didn't jerk at all. The baby on the other hand started crying, causing Jenna and the brothers to go into panic mode.

"Harry?!"

"Done.", Harry declared and let go of Mike, "Now hand me the baby, Jenna."

But Jenna stared at him in horror. 

"What… what did this do to her?"

"Jenna, hand me the baby, before you get infected, too."

"She's infected? Are you sure?", Sam asked, more hopeful than sceptic.

"No, she IS the infection. That's not a baby. That's the Darkness."

Three people stared at him in horror and disbelief and Harry got that, he really, really did, but he didn’t have time to… stop and think about what he would have to do. He just needed to get this done.

"Harry, are you sure?", Sam repeated, sounding almost resigned.

"Yes, that's not a baby. That's the thing that bloody ate the baby."

As if on queue, the thing yawned adorably. Great. Juuuuust great.

"Are you crazy? She's just a tiny baby!", Jenna protested and as Harry took a step towards her, she pulled out her gun and pointed at him, "Don't you dare! I don't care if you are a wizard. You are not killing a baby!"

"I wouldn't, actually. I'd…"

"Okay, no one shoot anyone. Jenna, you wait here with Mike and the baby, okay? Sam, Harry and I are gonna go in there", he pointed to a door to his right, "and talk this through. No one is killing babies here, okay?"

"Fine!", Harry barked and stomped through the door, followed closely by the Winchesters. Sam closed the door behind himself.

"You're sure about this?"

"No, Sam, I enjoy murdering babies. It's how I stay young.", Harry hissed, his voice practically tripping sarcasm.

"First: not helping. Second: It was the road crew that infected Mike, yeah? So what if the mist or whatever infected the road crew, because they were outside?"

"But we were outside, too.", Dean added.

"No, we were inside the car."

"And the Darkness tried to get in. So? Doesn't change anything.", Harry shrugged, "It probably made his way here as that cloud thing. Probably needed a host and moved past the crew on the way."

"What would it need a host for?", Sam asked.

"Short answer? As an anchor, I'd guess. Something so powerful can't just BE. It needs something to contain it. I can give you a very long answer involving magical theory, if you'd like."

"A host? Like the angels and demons, too?", Sam frowned.

"Angels, yes. Demons, no. Angels can exist without, but if their energy bleeds out, living things might die. Demons are basically just mutilated ghosts. That has nothing to do with cosmic energy. Or, to be clearer, angels are fueled by cosmic energy via God, not their own."

"So because…"

"Sam, I know this is heaven for your nerdy brain, but can we talk about that later? Darkness first.", Dean interrupted his brother.

"The Darkness was probably still weak from imprisonment. Infecting those people gave her some power, but it's slow. A newborn, though… vulnerable. The soul is new and has just entered the body. Easy pickings."

"Fucking hell.", Dean’s hand rubbed his head angrily, "Can you get it out, like with the others?"

"No. The Darkness is in every cell. And the soul is gone… or… maybe it was never there. If she slipped in before birth. Before the soul entered… mhhhh. I'll have to think about that. I honestly don't know. But I CAN tell you, there is no soul in there now."

"But if you pulled out the souls she had started to eat, then what's stopping her from going after…", Sam's eyes widened and Harry realized his mistake at the same time, threw open the door and stared at nothing. Jenna was gone and she had taken the Darkness with her. 

Harry didn't wait, he just apparated next to the Impala. The car was still there, so was the ambulance. But one of the cars to their left was gone.

"Merlin's soggy underpants! How could I have been this stupid?!", he cursed loudly, prepared to tear his own hair out. Millenia old Master of Death, my ass, he thought, I just lost a girl and a baby.


	3. Boom goes the Harry

**Boom goes the Harry**

So far, Harry had thought the most humbling day of his looooong life had been the day he had thought it would be a good idea to not only take his own kids, but his nieces and nephews out for a walk through the woods and ice cream after. Baaaad move. The walk to the shop had been fine. The kids were running around the footpath, excited to be out and eager to behave for the promised ice cream. 

Then they had to order what kind they wanted and all hell broke loose. He had to read the offered flavours several times for the younger ones, the older ones were shuffling to take a look. Everyone was eager to be the first to get their ice cream, someone stepped on Rose's foot, everyone shouted their choice at the poor salesperson, the people in line behind them hated them with a passion and and Harry somehow needed to pay before all of them ran out of the shop and into the street.Then someone was unhappy with their flavour, ice cream started to melt, children screamed bloody murder and Harry was ready to bang his head against every available hard surface. Finally everyone had eaten at least SOME ice cream and he had cleaned hands, mouths and clothes where necessary, when they had to go back into the shop, because three kids needed to pee. 

He had to leave Teddy in charge, who admittedly did a great job, but it caused a massive fight between the kids, about who should be his second in command. And then his third. And so on.And on the way back he had a horde of kids high on sugar and jumping in muddy puddles, small streams, hitting each other with sticks and screaming like banshees. 

Once they had all made it back to the house, he must have looked so pathetic, no one even made fun of him. And to top it all off: two days later Harry found out he had left his purse whilst paying. Which was GREAT fun and almost caused an incident, because he not only had Muggle money in there, but wizarding coins and his Auror-ID. Which the muggles of course looked at to return his damn purse. So yeah, that had been Harry’s most humbling day. Until he met the damn Winchesters.

He had let the Darkness escape, failed to notice the infected nurse in an upstairs closet that could have killed the two men he’d saved (He saved her, too, later. But that was besides the point) and he hadn’t been able to locate Jenna or the potential worlds ending mega bomb in her possession, because he was thrown off by all the mayhem going on in town, where they were making their way now. 

Even Dean seemed to have realised that Harry was really not in the mood and hadn't even made ONE comment about his fuck-ups. Apparently even he didn't kick a man down.

When they reached the first outskirts of town, their hope to find the infected, heal them and leave got dashed spectacularly. There were crashed cars, signs of obvious destruction and bodies everywhere. Dean swore loudly and turned towards Harry.

"Where to, Magical compass?"

But Harry wasn't really listening. The pain in his chest and head was growing worse with every breath he took. It had reached the point where he felt like the pulsating pain was actually beating in the rhythm of his heart. The blood was throbbing through his ears so loudly, he had trouble understanding the brothers, who looked at him with thinly veiled concern. Dean stopped in the middle of the road and got out of the car, while Sam turned around in his seat and said something Harry couldn't understand.

He opened his own car door and nearly fell to the pavement in his rush to get out. The pounding grew louder and louder, his whole body now shaking.

There was a pram laying overturned. 

Babies. God damned babies. He HATED it when babies were involved. Next to the pram, a young woman had had her throat cut down to the bone, her eyes wide in horror.

Boom. All those dead. Boom. And nothing he could do. Boom. Master of Death. Boom. My ass. Boom. What. Boom. Good. Boom. Was. Boom. All THIS?! 

Harry fell to his knees next to the woman. Around him, the world seemed to lose all colour. The pounding drowned out everything else. Boom. Boom. Boom. There were people infected by the Darkness around him, but somehow he couldn’t get up to find them. So many dead. So many souls… destroyed. So Harry pulled. And pulled. And PULLED. The pounding grew even louder, until it felt like he himself would burst any second. But Harry kept on pulling, putting all his anger, all his grief into it.

Death was inevitable. Yes. Death wasn't to be feared. But this wasn’t natural. It wasn’t how this was supposed to be.

What was the point?!

His vision started to blur in and out of focus with the rhythm of his heart.

What. Was. The. Point?!

With one last, unbearable BOOM Harry hit the pavement in front of him and felt it break under his fists as all pressure left his body. It was gone. No pounding. No pain. He felt tired, so tired. The whole town was silent, he saw the brothers stand about 20 feet from him, looking shocked. Then a scream shattered through the silence, followed by another and then another. The woman in front of him took a shaky breath through her newly healed throat and stared at him in horror, before crawling over to clasp her crying baby to her chest.

People were waking up all around them. Shocked. Terrified. Confused. But healed and alive. Harry could no longer feel even a trace of the Darkness around them. 

"Harry?", Sam took a couple of careful steps towards him, "Are you… okay?"

"What. The. Heck, man?", Dean ground out at the same time.

"I have no idea.", Harry admitted.

"Didn’t you say the whole Master of Death thing was kinda… not a thing?", Dean asked.

"Well, yes. I can't… this can't have been me.", Harry protested weakly, as Sam pulled him to his feet, keeping a steadying hand around his shoulder.

"Oh sure. The whole light show and pavement cracking was probably a coincidence."

"Dean. Not helping.", Sam chastised.

He was tired. So tired. Every muscle in his body felt sore, like he had been running for hours. His vision blurred a little. Harry felt himself stumble a little, as Sam tried to lead him back to the car, but the much taller man held him steadily upright.

“Harry, what’s the situation here?”, Dean asked, looking around them wearily, as people kept running around, hugging each other, shouting, crying.

“Everybody is healed.”, Harry replied. “I can feel it. The sickness is gone.”

“Of course. The Winchesters. Should have known.”, a female voice called out behind them, just as Sam deposited Harry back into the Impala. Immediately the two brothers stepped in front of the door and Harry couldn’t really see anything besides the brothers’ backsides.

“Who’s asking?”, Dean called out, gripping his gun harder.

“The whole of existence is shaken to its core, thousands of souls that were already reaped are pulled back to Earth and into their formerly dead vessels and who do I find in the middle of all of it? You two.”

“Who are you?”, Sam asked.

“Don’t you mean what? I’ll give you a hint. You just undid a whole day’s work for me. Now how did you do it?”

“Oh great, another Reaper. Exactly what we needed today.”, Dean groaned.

“You mean, because you killed my boss?”

“He had it coming.”

“Dean.”, Sam told his brother quietly, “I don’t think we need another showdown today.”

“Oh please, she won’t do a thing. She needs to know what happened here and if it’ll happen again. So all she can do is threaten us.”

“I am not here to threaten you, Dean, I am here to deliver a message.”

“Then spit it out. It has been a long day and I need a beer.”

“It’s over.”, the Reaper said and Harry actually snorted, which caused the brothers to inch a little closer together to hide him.

“Who’s that?”

“Another hunter working the same job today. No need to get him involved in all of this.”, Sam hurried to explain and Harry felt a sudden surge of warmth for the two Winchesters. They had just met him, he was obviously not exactly human, but they were still trying to shield him, while he was vulnerable, “Now what is over?”

"You and Dean… Dying and coming back again and again.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t known that, but it didn’t exactly surprise him, either. Those two just seemed like the type.

“The old Death thought it was funny, but now there is one hard, fast rule in the universe: What lives… dies.  So the next time you or your brother bite it, well, you're not going to Heaven . . . Or Hell. One of us… and, Lord, I hope it's me… we're gonna make a mistake and toss you out into the Empty. And nothing comes back from that.”

“So because you aren’t high enough on the cosmic ladder to get asked for your opinion, you are going to do a shoddy job? Now THAT’S how you get a promotion.”, Harry snarked, a new bout of anger helping him back on his feet and pushing the brothers aside to stand between them.

Sam actually stepped on his foot. On his bloody foot. What was he? 12?!

The reaper didn’t even give him a second glance. He was only human, after all. And the Winchesters were the big, scary ones, not him. That worked out just fine for him.

“Wow, that was one impressive speech. Really, I feel properly chastised. How about you, Sammy?”

“Very much. I am terrified by unnamed reaper number 836.”

“Cute. But give it a little time to sink in. I’m sure we’ll talk again then. And maybe, just maybe, we can work something out.”

“Like what? Empty with benefits?”, Dean rolled his eyes.

“Like tell me what happened here and I might have a better day at work, when you die. Without silly mistakes.”

“What happened here? I have no idea what you’re talking about. How about you, Sam?”

“Here? Seems pretty normal to me.”

“Exactly.”

“As you wish. Be seeing you boys soon, though.” 

And with that she vanished.

Harry let himself stumble backwards into the car and the brothers turned towards him.

“Well, she was fun.”, Dean sighed and opened the driver’s side door.

“What do we do now?”, Sam took his seat next to his brother and they closed their doors in sync.

“Oh, I meant it: I want a beer.”

“Do you guys have a couch for me to crash on?”, Harry yawned, finally closed his own door and let his head rest against the window.

“You can even have a bed.”, Dean grunted and Harry was surprised he didn’t have to put up a fight to be allowed to stay with them.

They could have told the reaper about him. They could have left him behind and he couldn’t actually do much about it in his current state. Instead they were ready to face the empty and take him with them. And as Harry drifted off to sleep, he vowed to himself that he would never let any reaper hurt Sam and Dean Winchester. He would stay with them, get rid of the Darkness and how ever long he might stay in this world or whatever else was going on with him, he would protect them with everything he had. And apparently that had just become a whole lot more.


	4. Harry does an Oopsie

**Harry does an Oopsie**

Harry woke up in a weirdly windowless room and a damp bed. 

Why did he wake up in a damp bed? The last time he could remember that happening, one of his grandsons had been staying over and slept in their bed, because he was scared of the thunder outside. And then he'd had an Oopsie in the middle of the night.

Who'd had an Oopsie now?

Had he had an Oopsie?

And why the hell was he thinking about Oopsies that much? Get a grip, Potter!

Harry swung his legs out of bed and realized that he was still wearing his clothes, but not his shoes and he was hungry. REALLY hungry. He concentrated for a second and found two human energies in his range (probably the brothers) and two… not human signatures.

Mh. Apparently the Winchesters had indeed taken him home. The last thing he could remember was falling asleep in their car.

Okay, he thought, just follow their signatures and get an update on why the hell he was in a weirdly wet bed.

There was a problem, though. He opened the door to his room and the way towards Sam and Dean was blocked by a wall. Great. That was the problem with this particular one of his powers: he could only tell the direction and that often didn't work out well in houses… caves… mazes… anything that wasn't an open field, really. 

Okay, what now? Go right, go left… go right, he decided and walked along a pretty impressive corridor in an effort to find SOMEONE. Or food. Or even a damn window. What was this? Were Sam and Dean doomsday preppers?

Well, they might, actually, Harry thought, with their apparent habit of pissing off anyone and anything.

Uhhhhhh, a kitchen!

Happily Harry walked into the room, his nose expertly revealing the coffee pot. 

It was cold, yes, but magic was a marvelous thing.

He located a mug, poured himself some quickly reheated coffee and happily started to raid the fridge.

Pickings were a little slim, but he decided that for now the unopened package of beef jerky on the counter would do.

After finishing his coffee, he started on the jerky and continued exploring. He was contentedly munching along, when one of the weirder energies turned out to be a sickly looking man chained to the floor in what looked like a war room.

Oh, Harry noted, an Angel! He hadn’t really expected that, but why the hell not.

"Whatcha do to end up in chains?", he called loudly and came closer.

The man looked up in surprise, almost shrugging off the blanket around his shoulders and looked at him with wide, slightly mad looking eyes.

"Well, shit. Someone did quite a number on you."

"I was cursed by a witch and tortured by Angels.", the man groaned out.

"That sucks. You need help with that?"

The Angel looked at him with a strange mixture of hope and horror.

"You are NOT human.", he declared.

"Sure I am."

"Your energy is all wrong."

"Is it? No one ever mentioned that before. Not even the Angels I met along the way. So? Need healing?"

"I could be an enemy. I'm chained, after all, so why help?", the Angel asked, narrowing his eyes, before he seemed to fall into a fit, groaning loudly and looking like he tried to crawl on on himself.

"Possible. But someone here made the effort of putting a blanket around you for comfort. Somehow that doesn't strike me like something you'd do for a foe.", Harry explained, when the Angel was back to looking at him.

"True. A witch cursed me with an... attack dog spell, she called it. Sam and Dean are trying to get her to lift it, but it just… cuts deeper."

Finally Harry put the jerky down on the table next to the man and knelt down beside him, trying to gauge the extent of the damage. The curse was child's play. No witch in this world would ever even come close to a wizard of his kind. But he had never healt an Angel before and this one… well, he didn’t seem to have an easy time of it.

"I am Castiel.", the Angel said, "You must be Harry. The Master of Death? I have never heard that title before."

"No, you wouldn't have.", Harry answered, only halfway listening, his mind trying to come up with where to start this healing marathon.

Castiel shook again and Harry could practically see that stupid curse trying to destroy him.

He put his hand on Castiel's arm and cast a simple Finite Incantatem. Wow, it had been ages since he had done that.

Castiel shook his head like a wet dog and opened his eyes again to stare right at Harry.

"It's gone. You just… just like that."

"Yes.", Harry agreed, still mostly occupied by the task in front of him.

Castiel's gaze wandered a bit through the room, as if unsure of what to do next.

"You ate Dean’s jerky. He won't like that."

"Oh, he won't? That makes it taste even better. Castiel, this might take a moment and it won't be pretty. You might be more comfortable, if I made you unconscious."

"No, I can take it."

"Don't be daft. I won't knock you out without your consent, but seriously: you won't want to feel this."

Castiel looked at him, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Do Sam and Dean often bring strangers back here?"

"No."

"Do you think that they trust me enough to bring me here and NOT chain me up, you can do the same?"

Another couple of moments of silent starring.

"They probably thought chaining you up would do them no good with your powers."

"True, but apparently I slept deep enough that they actually had to carry me to bed, so they could have just… I don't know, dropped me off somewhere."

"You have been asleep for several days. They tried to wake you when I got here, but nothing worked. Dean gave up when he dumped a bucket of water on you and you still didn't wake."

"That explains the fear of an Oopsie."

"What?"

"Nevermind. Castiel, I promise you, I only want to help you. I am not going to hurt you. I honestly wouldn’t need you unconscious for that."

Silence.

"It would honestly make healing you easier, because I wouldn’t have to worry about you dying on me halfway through due to pain or something."

"Very well. If it helps you."

"Stubborn proud men." , Harry sighed under his breath and sent Castiel into dreamland. Good thing his past meetings with Angels had been a little more hostile. At least that way he knew how much force to put behind his spell.

15 minutes later Harry studied Castiel and was really rather proud of himself. 

"Good as new!", he declared, when Castiel blinked awake and Harry removed his chains.

Castiel just stared at him.

"What? Did I mess something up?", Harry asked, taking another close look at the Angel within the vessel, "Looks fine to me. Any complaints?"

Castiel's eyes suddenly flashed a silvery blue, dark shadowy wings appearing on the wall behind him.

"Okay. Show off."

"You… fixed me."

"I thought that was understood? What am I missing here?"

"You… fixed my wings and my link to heaven. You… fixed everything.", Castiel's voice was so disbelieving, Harry felt like they all really needed a good beer and story time around a campfire.

"Yeeeees." , he tried again.

"Thank you.", Castiel told him, his voice so full of honest gratitude, it made Harry a little uncomfortable. 

"You are welcome. You should know, though, that if I miss read the situation and you actually mean those two boys harm, I won't go easy on you. I am quite fond of them."

"So am I.", Castiel stated matter of factly and Harry felt like they had just found some common ground and understanding.

"Do you know where they are in this maze of a thing? We should probably let them know they can stop threatening that witch or whatever."

"Yes, they are in the dungeon. This way.", Castiel let the way and when they passed by the kitchen, Harry made a quick pitstop. He'd had something savory, now he really needed something sweet.

They ran into Sam right outside the kitchen.

"Cas? What? Harry?"

"Harry has healed me.", Castiel informed the taller brother with that weird deadpan voice of his.

"Hi, Sam, thanks for letting me crash here. And sorry for falling asleep on you for so long."

"Yes, no. I mean, you're welcome. What exactly happened?"

"Woke up. Found Cas. Healed him. Came to find you."

"No, I mean with your weird sleep?"

"Oh, not sure yet. That'll take a bit of research and experimenting, I guess. So, what's up with that witch?"

"Ehm. Rowena, she's a powerful witch. Old. Made off with the Book of the Damned, which is bad news. We need it back."

"Okay, cool. Is she an ally, an enemy? Do we care what happens to her?"

"Ehm. She has helped us, but no, not an ally. More of an enemy of my enemy thing."

"Okay. Lead the way then.", Harry grinned. Damn, this world and these brothers were extremely entertaining.

They made it to the dungeon right on time to hear a confident Scottish voice say "Call him. If I'm dead, you've got a big fat pile of nothing. No book ever. And your friend with the bent halo? He goes foaming-at-the-mouth mad and dies. Your turn!"

Harry already didn't like her.

Sam stepped in first, followed by Castiel and then Harry, who turned towards Castiel and said: "You feel like mad and dying any time soon?"

"No. At least not right now.", Castiel informed the room, his eyes narrowed at Rowena. Dean had his feet up on a table and almost broke his neck to look at them.

"Oh hey, it's Sleeping Beauty. Wait. Are you eating my pie?!"

"It was in the fridge and I got hungry.", Harry shrugged and took another spoon full.

"Dude. That's my pie. Not cool!"

"It wasn’t like there was a sticky note with your name on it or anything."

"Would you have cared about a sticky note?", Castiel asked thoughtfully.

"Yes! I would have eaten the pie immediately and not have the jerky first."

"You ate my jerky, too?!"

"Guys!", Sam yelled, sounding remarkably like Hermione had often done, when they had been sitting around their kitchen table, drunk some whiskey and talked about Quidditch. Good times, "Can we deal with one problem at a time?"

"Oh yeah, sure. Your so-called witch. She has something we want, right?"

Everybody was turning towards Rowena, whose eyes were wide in terror and glued to Harry's face.

"Hi, Rowena, I am Harry."

"You… what are you?", her voice an odd mixture of fear and reverence. 

"Usually no one asks me that. Like… what's up with this world? I'm a human. Wizard."

"No, you're not. You… you are so... bright."

"Told you.", Castiel indeed told him.

"Do I really not look human to you guys? Like… that's a new development."

"That Reaper definitely thought you looked human.", Sam agreed.

"That was before his weeklong nap, though.", Dean noted.

Harry's mind was racing. Was it possible? He hadn’t really had the time to think about the implications of being the stupid Master of Death, if Death was dead. But that didn't mean, he changed species, right?

Then again, returning thousands of people to life was sorta, kinda a new thing, too. This was… worrying. If you spend millenia thinking you were one thing and the world worked a certain way, having that thrown into question wasn't exactly something to celebrate. On the other hand, he HAD been getting bored with it all.

"That's a problem for another day.", he declared to the room at large, "We have more immediately solvable problems. Like this book thing. You have it. We want it. Tell us or I'll filet you and make it last for days."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sam stare at him in disbelief, but he really didn’t care. He didn’t like these unnatural witches. Perverting themselves to get a tiny grip on a power they had really no business meddling with.

Rowena was still staring at him, as if to desperately reach for SOMETHING.

"If I am dead, that means you'll never find the book."

"True.", Dean agreed helpfully, "But we have the Codex and without it, no one can read that thing, so we're good."

"And if you have hidden it so thoroughly, once you are dead, no one can get to it anyway.", Castiel reminded her.

Ohhhh, these guys knew how to team work, all right.

"Now, boys, have we not helped each other out before? This is all a bit too macho, don't you agree? I'm not unreasonable, after all."

"I am, though.", Harry told her coldly and walked over to lean on Dean's table, "We really have bigger fish to fry, so no one wants to waste time on you."

"None of this HAD to happen. Really. If only Samuel over here would have held up his end of the bargain.", Rowena tried again, desperately trying to act in control. But Harry could feel it. Almost taste it in the air. The terror she was trying to hide. And the weight of all those years on her soul. She was old, Sam had said, way past her natural life span. A cheat, who had given up her soul, her humanity, for a little power and a longer life. Pathetic.

"What bargain?", Dean growled, giving Sam a suspicious look.

"Oh, just that thing between Sam, Crowley, and myself."

"What thing?", Dean asked sharply and Harry rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Don't let her do this, Dean. She knows she has no other choice, but to tell us or die.", he tried, but from Rowena's triumphant look, he knew she had found an in.

"Oh, surely, you knew Sam made a deal with me to kill my son if I removed the Mark of Cain from your arm. Well, is the Mark gone? Yes. Is Crowley dead? No."

Harry could hear Dean starting to speak behind him, but Rowena's words caused a sudden surge of disbelieving anger to coil in his guts.

"Your son? You wanted Sam to kill your son?"

Images of his own children flashed before his eyes. Wilde rides on brooms. Jumping into puddles. Dying of old age. So, so long ago and still he missed them. And yet here this… abomination was calmly talking about killing her son.

"Yes, but somehow the little bugger still lives.", Rowena chirped and Harry felt that white hot anger again. What was happening to him, damn it? He wasn’t usually like this! Hadn’t been for thousands of years. He was in control at all times. But not here. Not in this world. Not with these people.

"And why do you want him dead?", Harry asked, his voice still sounding conversationally, but inside he was raving.

Rowena looked straight at him, as if she was proud of what she was saying. As if she should be commanded for it.

"Because I hate him."

"What for?"

"Existing."

That one word was spoken with so much conviction, so much hate, Harry felt more old memories, thought long buried, resurface. Of the Dursleys' hate for him. Of those lonely, lonely years. Rowena had barely closed her smirking mouth, when Harry's anger boiled over and the light vanished from her eyes and her soul left her body.


	5. Fake... Fake... Really real

**Fake… Fake… Really real**

Dean Winchester was exhausted. And he had every right to be. It had been a really, really long… decade.

The last week in the bunker hoping their crazy, homicidal, pie-stealing guest would finally come out of his room had probably been the most rest he had gotten in ages. 

But then, earlier that day, they had gotten the message that Jenna's grandmother had been found murdered in her house and Jenna, young, motivated, caring Jenna had apparently gone on a killing spree, before being killed by police herself. 

So he had grabbed the newly powered up Cas and left Sam on Psycho Duty. Harry would probably just need a good talk and Sam's puppy dog eyes to get him out of his funk. 

Although it was a funk Dean understood all too well. New powers and the sudden urge to kill people was one thing he sadly knew a whole lot about now.

So Dean and Cas had done the whole FBI routine and probably managed to sneak in before the real feds arrived, but there was nothing much to see. Just a whole lot of blood and no baby Darkness. But, then again, Jenna's grandmother had a crib and clothing out, so they assumed Jenna had started out there. Before possibly losing her soul and deciding murder was great fun.

Dean really hadn't felt like staying in a Motel and since Cas didn't need to sleep, he had actually trusted the Angel to drive for a while and had slept a little. He really was getting soft, but ever since he had gotten his own bed (memory foam!) the Motels had seemed even more crappy.

On their way through town, Cas had woken him up, they had stopped for provisions, donuts for breakfast and, yes, enough pie to share. Now Dean was driving again and itching to get home, get a shower and stretch his legs.

He stopped abruptly.

"Cas. Are you seeing what I'm seeing?"

Next to him, the Angel narrowed his eyes and slightly tilted his head to the right.

"I would imagine so."

Dean turned the engine off and got out of the car, still staring at the spot where the bunker was supposed to be.

"That's… Cas, that's a house. A frigging house."

"It is.", Cas agreed, "Or rather the illusion of one."

"Illusion?"

"Yes, and it's a really good one at that. I have trouble detecting the bunker beneath the magic. I assume I can only see it, because I know it's there."

“Cas?”

“Yes, Dean?”

“Why am I seeing a frigging house?”

“Harry probably thought it would be useful. The cellar door over there corresponds with the bunker's entry."

"Useful.", Dean parroted, staring at the oddly suburban mailbox proudly claiming 'Campbell'.

"Well, we could speculate. Or we could ask him directly." 

"At least he left his room.", Dean groaned, then headed up the porch, suddenly morbidly curious what would happen, if he rang the doorbell.

It turned out: nothing.

He rang again. Inside he could hear some classical melody loudly chime out.

Again, no response. 

He just put his finger on the bell continuously.

"Dean, maybe it doesn't actually…", but before Cas could finish, Sam almost ripped the door off its hinges. He wore sweatpants and a plain t-shirt, his hair wild and his eyes red and bleary.

"Dude, what the hell? I can't fly, you know?!"

Dean stared at his little brother with a mixture of amusement and horror.

"Are you… hung over?"

"No.", Sam declared stubbornly.

"You do appear to be slightly…", but Sam cut Cas off, who had followed Dean up the porch.

"I am fine. Just need some coffee."

"Explain the house.", Dean told him instead.

Sam flinched a little, then he noticed the coffees Cas was holding and the bag of donuts in Dean's hand.

"During breakfast?", he asked, making impressive efforts to look like a giant puppy.

"Fine.", Dean grumbled, "Where does this fake hallway in this fake house actually lead to?"

"Our actual kitchen.", Sam shrugged, "Harry thought the way was too long to carry in groceries."

"And we had an easier way ordering Pizza last night.", came Harry's slightly accented voice from behind Sam. Dean really couldn't place that accent. Harry constantly sounded like he was imitating him, Cas and Sam while he spoke so there was really nothing to go by. Probably came with being an old bastard.

"Wait… you guys got drunk and ordered Pizza? To our super secret bunker full of supernatural treasures?!", Dean felt his voice go monotone, unsure of how to react to that. 

"Well, that's why we made the house.", Harry told him proudly as they reached the bunker's kitchen, "Now you can get mail and food and all that."

"And travelling salesman?", Dean sighed.

"Noooo, I did a little enchantment. You have to know where to go, to actually WANT to come here. If it makes you nervous, I can modify the delivery guy's memory.", Harry shrugged, like changing someone's memory was an everyday thing.

"Please don't … are those WINDOWS?!"

"Don't worry. They are magical. They show the scenery outside, but no one can look inside or something. I put them in every room. You need light. It's important for your health."

Dean felt like banging his head on the table, but he sat down nonetheless and reached for a donut.

"This is amazing.", Cas declared simply and took a seat. Dean would really like to share that sentiment. Really. It would be so… nice… to catch a break. To have someone like Harry on their side and not go ballistic on them. Cas seemed to think restoring him to his full health meant Harry was trustworthy. Dean knew that Sam still silently suspected Harry might actually be God, come to help with the Darkness. The kid had hope. After the crap fest of the past decade, Dean didn’t exactly have faith in ANY higher power. But Sam and Cas had laughed at his hypothesis, so he kept his mouth shut.

"How come you are this chipper, when Sammy here looks like he was run over by a tank?", he asked, trying to process everything around him. Did the kitchen look cleaner? The floor looked… shiny.

"It seems young Sam isn't as able to hold his drink as I am."

Sam groaned, which caused Cas to reach out and carefully place a finger on his head.

"Better?", Cas asked, honest concern in his voice.

"Did you just… heal his hangover?"

"Yes. He was just severely dehydrated, so…"

"Now that you got your mojo back, healing hang-overs is an option?"

"Can you even still get hangovers, Dean?", Sam asked, only half-teasing. Way too close for Dean's comfort.

Harry gave him a thoughtful frown. Oh oh.

"Who cooks around here normally?"

"Well, cook is a pretty word for what we do.", Sam admitted.

Harry's frown deepened.

"Okay. I'll do some shopping later. Stock up on essentials. Any dietary restrictions?"

"Oh come on, are you saying you are going to cook for us?!", maybe it wasn’t Sam who had drunk too much. Maybe Dean was passed out somewhere and hallucinating.

"I have you know that I am an EXCELLENT roommate. I clean, do laundry and yes, I cook. The universe would have collapsed before Molly Weasley did not make sure we all knew how to cook."

"Okay. Whatever.", Dean agreed, suddenly feeling exhausted, "Wait. Did you just say Molly Weasley? As in Mrs Weasley? As in Ron's Mum? I fucking KNEW it! I TOLD Sam and Cas that the only Master of Death I had ever heard of was Harry Bloody Potter!"

Harry grinned at him, "Sam told me that, yes."

"It's why we got drunk.", Sam admitted sheepishly, "I made him tell me everything and in exchange I had to tell him about the Supernatural Books."

"Oh no."

"Loved the covers.", Harry wriggled his eyebrows.

"We watched the first couple of movies. Harry has never been in a world where those existed, so…"

"I really needed some Whiskey with that.", this time it was Harry, who looked a little green.

Dean found a small, slightly desperate laugh escaping his mouth. How? How was any of this his life? How was any of this real?!

"Then, I did some cleaning this morning and read the first Supernatural book. That cheered me up."

"Reading about their mother dying was amusing to you?", Cas asked, his voice still perfectly neutral.

Harry's grin left his face, "Of course not. It's just the first time I met someone like me. Whose lives have been turned into books. It's nice not to be the only one, who gets to have their secrets exposed to the world."

"At least your books stop before you have to worry about someone writing about your sex life.", Dean moaned.

"Yeeeeeees, because I really enjoy everyone judging my teenage angst and knowing about my childhood. Woho."

"Wait until you find the Fanfiction."

"I've been in worlds with that before. Wait. Is there… is there fanfiction about you boys?"

"No.", Sam and Dean told him sternly. And simultaneously. Harry's eyes sparkled with obvious mirth.

"Don't worry. First I need to finish the books anyway."

Fine, Dean thought, if this was the price for having the real Harry Potter on their side, he'd take it. Yes, the man could claim whatever and if he was Harry Potter millenia had gone by, since he was the teen they had all read about. Still. Dean felt a little better about their odds now.


	6. Chapter 6

**Masters of Etymology**

"See? It's infuriating! Poor Ron. Poor Hermione. Poor everyone!"

"Yes, we get it, you don't like the movies.", Dean rolled his eyes at a very much ranting Harry and reached for another handful of popcorn. Looking for the Darkness was going nowhere. Dean had even asked Crowley for help, when he had.. ehm… handed over Rowena's body. But that hadn't gotten them far, either. So now the four men had decided to try and recharge and enjoy what they could for as long as possible. Which, right now, meant a movie night to annoy Harry and entertain the others.

"Don't like them. Don't like them?!"

"Harry," Sam tried to intercede, buuuut it was already too late, Harry was working his way up to a full lecture.

"Hate them?", Dean offered.

"Resent?", Cas tried, his voice neutral, but Sam could see the happy spark in his eyes. 

It was a little out of character, how they had all taken to Harry so quickly, but… Sam remembered how he had felt, when he found out Angels and God actually existed. How he had felt, for a brief time, like finally, finally there was someone in their corner. How they could be sure to be on the right side… they had all been let down. Him. Dean. And especially Cas, abandoned by a father he was told to love, but had never met. And in a weird way, Harry, with his grandfatherly looks, his teasing comments and yet weirdly protective habit of making sure they ate well, felt like someone finally took an interest in them, not because he NEEDED them, but because he liked them.

Sam wondered briefly, if Henry would have been that kind of grandfather, if he'd gotten the chance.

Deep in thought, Sam had blocked out the banter next to him, until Harry very forcefully yelled: "He doesn't even LOOK like me!"

"Oh yeah? Well, he is an actor.", Dean offered.

"Which means nothing, considering we once visited a world, where our lives were a TV-Show and we were actors. Actors that looked like us, obviously.", Sam jumped right back into the fray, “Maybe somewhere out there, there is a Harry Potter that looks like Daniel Radcliffe.”

"You did? That's really interesting.", Harry's face lit up, "Which book is that? I just finished number 100."

"Which one is that?", Dean frowned, "I didn't read the later ones."

"Where you go to the future. And don't deflect."

"The books stop before that happens.", Sam explained.

"Bummer. Damn, this is all depressing. Like… I read those books about me, but these movies are so different. What’s the point of making movies, if you get everything WRONG? And WHY do they insist on romanticising Hermione and me? Can we talk about the weirdness? We would never have worked out. "

"That's what bothered you most?", Castiel asked.

"Ehm, yeah? She was like my sister. Just… no."

"At least she was only LIKE your sister.", Dean mumbled under his breath and judging by his mortified expression, he hadn’t planned to say it out loud.

Harry's whole face lit up and he actually pressed the pause button right where Voldemort was hugging Malfoy (Sam really hoped that little scene had escaped Harry's attention).

"Explain.", he told Dean sternly, his mouth twitching slightly, as if he was struggling to hold in a laugh.

"No way."

"Dean.", Harry tried again, stretching the name like their Dad sometimes used to do, when he KNEW something was up.

"Don't push it.", Sam jumped in to defend his brother and his own sanity, "Or I'll start reading you something involving you and a suddenly sexy, leather pants wearing Draco Malfoy."

Harry went a little pale, his gaze darting around between the three of them. Finally he said: "Fine. But at least tell me, if there is some good stuff about the two of you out there. Or did you guys only work it out after the books." And he gestured between Cas and Dean.

Sam choked on his beer and Dean, who had just been in the process of throwing popcorn in his mouth, jerked so violently, he missed and hit himself in the eye.

Cas just stared at Harry like a goldfish. No one moved. No one spoke. Harry kept staring between them, before saying: "Aaaaaaanyway, change of topic. I still don't know why I don't look human anymore. I did lots and lots of diagnostic spells and even I don't register myself as human anymore. I basically get an error message."

Surprisingly enough, Cas was the first one to recover.

"To me, you look a little like Angels do, but much brighter. It hurts a little to look at you. Too long and I get a headache."

"I hurt you?", Harry looked at him with concern, "Why didn't you say so before?"

"I can manage."

"Yeah, but there are ways to disguise auras and energies and… I'll do some research."

"Well, if you are the Master of Death, maybe you are the new Death now.", Dean returned to the conversation.

"He doesn't look like Death.", Cas offered, "He looks completely different."

"Maybe we are looking at this completely the wrong way.", Sam had been thinking about this for weeks now, "The title is old, right? And the meaning of words change over time. Master doesn't have to mean boss, it could also be something like leader or teacher."

"So I should teach Death?"

"You said, Death always did his job before and didn't interfere. He definitely interfered here, maybe that's why you were summoned?"

"But Death has helped us before.", Dean interjected, "He returned your soul from the cage. As a favour, basically."

"He did what? That's quite… something."

"Maybe it's the teacher of death.", Cas wondered, "You said, you'd be summoned by people asking for your help. Instead you informed them that death was part of human life and nothing to be feared." 

"But that wouldn’t explain my power surge…"

"Now that Death is dead himself, it night be your responsibility to teach the new Death."

"Depressing thought. I'm a terrible teacher."

Sam laughed, but Cas nodded gravely.

"Last week, when you were both asleep, Harry tried to teach me how to bake pie. I fear I now know less than before."

"Oi. Rude, young man!", Harry chastised.

"About that… who of you is actually the older one?", Dean asked, leaning forward and reaching for another handful of popcorn. His eye had stopped watering, too.

Harry and Cas looked at each other.

"I don't know how old I am.", Harry admitted.

"Neither do I. Especially not when it comes to Earthly years. Heaven is… different.", Cas explained, a strongly wistful look on his face.

"I am sorry, Harry, that I cannot ask my brothers and sisters for information about your status. I fear they would not welcome me."

"I don't need their help.", Harry grumbled.

"You're now what? The only Angel that can actually fly? You could just show up in Heaven and they could do nothing against it, right?", Sam asked carefully.

"They would all want to know how I did it. Maybe we could trade them for information?", Cas wondered.

"I'm not healing other Angels.", Harry declared.

"Of course. I imagine that would be very taxing."

"No. That doesn’t bother me. But they tortured you and I'm not going to lift a finger to help them."

Sam felt a sudden surge of warmth at Harry's words. It was nice to know it wasn’t just them that felt like Harry belonged. He obviously felt the same way.

“You’re such a mother hen.”, Dean muttered, but they could all hear the affection in his voice.

“Is that supposed to be an insult?”

“Not if you don’t mind being called an old woman.”

“Although I’m old, I don’t identify as a woman. But I don’t think it would be an insult, either. Dean, dear, are you showing us your deepest insecurities here?”, Harry asked, his voice forcefully calm, but Sam thought his demeanor might burst into laughter at any second.

Dean had turned a little pink.

“You’re an ass.”

“Well yes. And I’m in good company.”


	7. Disrespect. Disrespect everywhere.

**Disrespect. Disrespect everywhere**

"I have unaligned news.", Harry declared, as he, happily munching on Dean's jerky, again, marched into the room.

Castiel looked up from the book he had been staring at and squinted a little, as he now always had to do. He couldn’t say for sure, but he hoped his reaction to Harry might be getting weaker. He hadn’t yet told the other man, because he wasn't sure yet and he didn’t like reminding Harry of that problem in the first place. It would simply trouble him without any way of remedying the situation. And Cas didn't like to trouble Harry.

"Unaligned? Dude, did you get a saying wrong again?", Dean huffed, doing his own research on a laptop across the table and completely ignoring the provocation, ever since he had started hiding several stashes of food all over the Bunker.

"I don't get sayings wrong."

"Last week you told me my music was 'hep'.", Dean objected.

"And you told me Game of Thrones was 'dope'.", Sam added and Cas really couldn't help but proudly declare: "Even I knew you were out of date, when you called that one actress a groovy broad."

"Yeah, groovy broad… man, those words don't even belong in the same decade.", Dean told Harry with fake sympathy.

Harry looked at all of them, before haughtily informing them: "I am not wrong. You are just at the wrong point in time."

"We would have to be at multiple points of time at once to make you correct.", Cas added.

"Oh, shut up and respect your elders."

Now it was Cas' time to get sneakily smug: "That status is unconfirmed."

Silence.

"Fine. You can all go to bed without supper. If you want to roast me, the roast in the oven should only be for me."

"Now, come on! No need to go nuclear on our asses!", Dean hurried, "What's the news?"

"The Darkness is gone."

"What do you mean by gone?", Sam was the first to recover. 

"Gone. As in: not in this universe. Let alone on this planet."

"How is that even possible?"

"Well, we know she's a trans-dimensional being. I assume she has decided not to stay in this one. It might be a good idea to check with some contacts, but… I cannot find her. And I can assure you I've spent a lot of magic on setting up the right equipment. She's gone."

"Is that good or bad?", Cas asked, trying to figure out what that could mean. Were they safe here? Was another universe at risk? Had they doomed a world full of strangers?

"I don't know. Hence the news being unaligned as of now."

"I'll try calling Crowley again.", Dean sighed and reached for his phone, "He's been tough to get a hold on since… well."

"Then it's probably time for me to return to heaven.", Cas added, severely unenthusiastic about the prospect. Maybe he should rather call one of his siblings instead of just appearing in Heaven. They… might not like that.

Everyone gave him a worried glance.

"Is that a good idea?", Dean finally asked.

"I could come with…", Harry offered.

"Right now, no one knows about you being here. We better try and keep it that way. At least for now."

"Well, you're not going alone. Sam and I are gonna come with.", Dean told him sternly and Cas felt both happy and annoyed. He was a fully powered up Angel, not some delicate flower. 

"You better try and reach Crowley, I'll be fine.", Cas declared and managed to fly off, before someone could stop him. He didn’t need anyone talking him out of this idea he didn’t like having in the first place.

In what would be a blink of an eye for a human, he appeared back at the playground and reached out to his siblings quietly.

"Brothers, Sisters, we need to talk. About that new power you chose to torture me about before. This isn't revenge or a trap. I just want to exchange information that might benefit us all. And I hope you'll do the same."

Then Cas simply set down and waited. And waited a bit more.

"Castiel."

He turned around and gave a cautious nod, "Duma."

"I was the one chosen to speak to you.", his sister told him, her voice neutral and unreadable as to what she thought of that task.

"Then I thank you for coming."

"You have information to share?", he carefully tilted her head and squinted lightly, "You look… different."

"I have intel that the power that appeared several weeks ago, the Darkness, has left this world."

"The Darkness? You are saying the thing we feel is the Darkness? That's impossible. The Darkness was destroyed."

"No. Only locked away. Heaven has felt her presence. Do you still do so?"

"How good is your intel?"

"Very.", Cas insisted wholeheartedly. Harry wouldn’t have said anything otherwise, "What do you know?"

Duma hesitated for a brief moment.

"We know that one of them has vanished several days ago, but we don't know which one."

"What do you mean 'one of them'?", Cas asked, foreboding hitting him hard.

"One power appeared suddenly. You were… asked about that one."

"The Darkness."

"Yes. It has gone. The other one, it… grew. Over time. Over the span of several days. We can feel, but not locate it. What is it?"

Cas knew exactly what that was, but he would neither talk about Harry, nor did he want to outright lie, "I cannot feel that new power."

"Odd. Unless…", Duma squinted again, "What has happened to you?"

"Many things. As you well know."

"No, you… glow."

"I wasn't aware of that.", Cas carefully explained, his mind racing. Could Duma see his connection to Heaven? His restored wings?

"We've all felt weaker lately, with our numbers greatly diminished. Yet we can all feel that new presence. Why can't you?"

Weaker, Cas thought, he hadn’t felt weaker. What was going on? Was his reforged connection somehow weakening the others?

"That other power, what does it feel like to you?"

"Divine."

Well, that was… a whole other issue.

"Divine."

"Yes. For a bit, some of us had hope that maybe our Father had returned to us, but… it doesn't feel like that. It feels different. Less powerful, but still… incredible. It seems to be everywhere at once. We cannot locate it. It is here right now. I have never felt it so strongly before."

Cas half expected Harry to walk out of the bushes surrounding them, happily waving at them or something. But nothing like that happened and Duma, who had looked around, too, turned her gaze back on Cas.

"It is you.", she declared suddenly, "It's emanating off of you. How? Castiel, you must tell me! This new power, how have you… how have you become part of it?"

"What do you mean? I'm still just an Angel!'

"Yes.", she agreed, her eyes wide with a mixture of horror and longing, "But an Angel of what?"

Behind her the Doorway opened and more Angels stepped through, looking at him with varying degrees of longing, hate… hope.

"Castiel, we are weak. We are losing power. How… How have you done this?", Duma urged, "We would talk to this new power. We… we can come to an understanding!"

Cas backed away a little. If he felt threatened, he could simply fly away. They would never expect him to or be prepared for the possibility, but they all looked so… sad. 

Harry felt divine? And somehow Harry healing him had… changed Cas on a more fundamental level. Was that why he had less problems looking at Harry?

"Whatever this is about, I am sure you taking me prisoner would not help yourself with that new power.", Cas told them sternly, as four of his siblings moved to surround him. That really wasn’t a lie. Cas still couldn’t predict Harry well enough to anticipate what he would do, if the Angels took Cas prisoner.

Immediately the others stopped moving.

"So you do know.", Duma declared.

"I admit, I know who this power is, but not what.", Cas sighed, "And neither does he. He goes by the name Master of Death."

None of his siblings gave any hint that they recognized that term, so that wasn’t helpful.

"I have told you what I can. Why don't you do your own research and call, if you have anything?"

"This Master of Death doesn’t know what his powers entail or where they stem from, either?", Duma asked.

"No, he does not."

"Then…", she stopped and tilted her head, as if she was listening to someone. Which was very much an option, of course, "Then we will find out what we can and contact you, if we have answers that might please this Master of Death. And then we can come to an agreement."

Oh no, Cas thought darkly, they were all so used to following, so diminished in power, that his brothers and sisters had apparently decided Harry would be able to save and lead them. He shuddered at the thought of what they might do to 'please' Harry.

"Then be careful. Whatever he is now, as far as I know his origins are human. Or mostly human.", Cas qualified, thinking of Harry's status as a wizard, "He still places great value in human life."

"Ah, that is why he resurrected so many of them when he appeared here.", Duma stated, a calculating gleam in her eyes.

"Exactly.", Cas agreed and turned around, walking away from the twelve Angels that had surrounded him, before someone could try and stop him or ask more questions. He kept on walking down the street and only when he was sure no one was following him, did he spread his wings and fly home. 

The brothers were still sitting at the table, reading. Good, they had trusted his judgement enough to let him be, then.

"Crowley says, and I quote 'The Demons are scared. The Monsters are scared. And no one knows why.'", Dean told him without preamble, "So apparently they don't know the Darkness left yet. How's the God-Squad doing?"

"It's not the Darkness they are afraid of, Dean, it's Harry."

"Me?", Harry called out from behind him, now wearing an apron and oven mitts, "What have I ever done to Hell? Except for possibly taking A COUPLE of souls."

"Committed a fashion crime.", Dean deadpanned.

"Oh, shut up, you. Don't make me ground you."

"I think the Angels are prepared to worship you.", Cas chose to just come out with it in an attempt to stop their needless bickering.

"Worship Harry?", Sam was obviously baffled, "Because he healed you or can they all feel his power?"

"They sense his power and I'd guess so does Hell.", Cas agreed, "I cannot, because apparently his powers have influenced me enough to look like him. Albeit much weaker."

"My powers changed your powers?", Harry asked, pulling one of his hands out of the oven mitt and thoughtfully scratching his beard, "I didn't mean to, but it's possible. I was a bit volatile that day."

"A bit.", Sam agreed.

"Excuse me, but can we go back to the worshipping part? What are they gonna do? Built statues of grandpa over there with his holy apron and divine oven mitts?"

Harry half heartedly threw the free oven mitt at Dean's head.


End file.
